


After The Storm

by littlebirdofprey



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14816108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebirdofprey/pseuds/littlebirdofprey
Summary: post-Battle Of Denerim fluff





	After The Storm

Zevran found Nienna in the castle’s kitchen. He wasn’t sure how she’d managed to slip away from the leagues of people congratulating her, but he was thankful that she had. He knew that had to be overwhelming for her, even if the praise was well-deserved, and now perhaps they could have a moment alone. 

It’d been a hectic, dangerous week, the forced march from Redcliffe, the battle for Denerim, it had to be wearing on her like he felt it wearing on himself. No matter how resilient or strong one claims to be, there’s only so long a person can forgo sleep. 

Nienna was sitting on a stool off to the side of the room that was otherwise abandoned, intently cleaning a dagger that looked pristine already from where he entered. She didn’t notice him enter, or if she did sense his presence she didn’t make that fact known. He frowned at the sight, the uncomfortable tension in the air, and crossed the distance to her. 

“That is so like you, my dear,” Zevran said as he knelt beside her and carefully took the blade from her hands, “To be more concerned with the state of your weapons than of yourself.” 

He located the dagger’s leather scabbard on the floor, sheathed it and set it aside, then turned his attention on her. She was still, silent, and so very far from him, never mind that she was in arm’s reach. 

“Look at me, my love, what’s wrong?”  

She met his eyes and just as quickly looked away, sighing deeply, “This has been the longest day of my life, Zevran.”

“I’m certain it has, but it’s over now. You should relax. You deserve it.”

“How can I relax when so many are dead?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper, “How can I celebrate such a bittersweet victory?”

“There are so many less lucky than us, that’s true. But we’re alive and we should act like it or those we lost would’ve given their lives in vain, no?” 

Nienna said nothing, gaze still focused on her hands, hands stained quite literally with blood. 

Perhaps his words had been poorly chosen, too harsh, too real. Death had been his reality for so long he sometimes forgot others didn’t see it in the same light. For most, it was a dark cloud on the horizon, but to him the storm had been raging for so long he felt little more than raindrops in occasional passing thoughts. 

Nienna on the other hand had a life before this war, a full happy one. She’d had a home, she’d had a family, not one of blood but a family nonetheless, and now what did she have? The dust had settled leaving a clean slate, and there was no clear path marked down for her anymore.  

Zevran stood, moved to the stove and set a kettle upon it. Using a nearby scrap of parchment, he borrowed flame from a wall sconce to light it. 

Nienna watched him in silence, at first thinking he was making tea, but he didn’t allow the water the time to heat for that. He poured the warmed water into a bowl and grabbed a cloth from the table, bringing both to the small end table beside where she sat. 

“What’s that for?” 

“I’ve quite the experience in cleaning off blood, and in case you haven’t noticed you’re covered in it. Let me help?”  

She gave him a tired smile and nodded. He helped her out of the armor she’d been too tense to take off, never mind that the battle ended hours before, the remains of the horde had fled. She had done it, she’d slain the arch demon, saved Ferelden and could finally catch her breath. 

He pulled over a stool to sit across from her, and wrung out cloth before, dabbing it cloth against the dried blood on her cheek, gently rubbing it from her skin. He moved to her chin, the other side of her face, and then her forehead. Finally, wiping away the last of it from the tip of her nose, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Ah, there’s my beautiful warden, I knew she had to be under there somewhere.”

The laughter in his voice set her at ease, like they were the only two people in the world and nothing could ever harm either of them again. 

She laughed in kind, despite herself, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Thank you.” 

“You’re allowed to mourn the fallen, but don’t let guilt over the deaths of strangers consume you, else you might as well have died out there too.” 

Nienna rested her forehead against his, “I have too much to live for to have died today, Zevran, don’t worry about me.” 

“It’s hard not to when you lead such a worrying lifestyle, my dear.” 

“This coming from an assassin,” She said, pulling away from him to rest back against the wall. 

“Hmm, you have me there. I suppose that is why we’re so good together.” 

“Because we both have little regard for our own safety? I can think of better reasons.” 

“Oh? Care to elaborate?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Have me sit here and tell you all the reasons you’re wonderful.”

“It’d be nice to hear them from someone else for a change.” 

She snorted at that, shaking her head, then looked down at herself. Her tunic, though protected from most of the blood, was dirty from the battle and the days of travel leading up to it. She sighed, frowning at the small bowl of water.  

“Thanks for this. Zev, but I think I could really use a bath.”

“I can help with that as well.”

“I’ll bet. Any excuse to help me out of my clothes, right?” She teased, her voice lighter, calmer, more like herself. 

“You wound me. You should know by now I’m good for much more than that. After all, it is once your clothes are off that my talents really shine.” 

Nienna smiled but cut their banter short, “I really do just want to bathe and go to sleep.” 

“I know, and I really do want to help. I’ll go draw you a bath.”

Before she could insist that she could manage it herself and that he shouldn’t trouble over her, he’d already rose from her side and was well out the door. She shook her head, smiling, wondering when was the last time someone fussed over her. Her heart, that had ached from loss only minutes ago, felt lighter. 

The rest of her, however, ached. Weighed down from weariness, she fought the urge to sit right back down as she stood. She convinced her tired muscles to prevail, with the promise that they’d get to rest soon enough. 

She lost count of the people that stopped her on her way, and with each one she got a little less polite. 

“ _ The hero of Ferelden has an awful temper, that’s what they’ll say about me _ ,” she thinks to herself after quickly brushing off yet another round of praise, and then wonders why she’s all of a sudden worried about her public image. Perhaps it’s because she never had an image before. It felt strange, the title tasted bitter in her mouth as she let it roll off her tongue. Would they be so quick to hail her a hero if they knew she’d only survived slaying the archdemon because of a blood magic ritual? She didn’t regret it for a second, Grey Warden honor and sacrifice didn’t mean all that much to her. She wanted to live. 

When she finally made it to her quarters, Zevran was adding some sort of oil to the bath. It had a sweet smell, like early spring flowers. If she closed her eyes she could almost pretend it was the smell of the forest clearing where her father first taught her how to use a bow. 

“Is it ready?” She asked, avoiding bittersweet memories in favor of the present. 

He nodded and she undressed as she made her way over to the tub. He offered his hand to help her in, pressing kiss to her knuckles before letting go. As she submerged herself in the water, Zevran sat down on a stool beside her. 

A contented sigh left her as the warmth of the water began its work erasing her aches and washing the dirt and blood from her skin. 

“This is nice, Zev, thank you.” 

“It was no trouble, really. As I said earlier, you could use some relaxation.”

A yawn followed his words and Nienna looked over at him, “You’re one to talk. When was the last time you slept?”

He opened his mouth to protest but she wasn’t having it, “Nope, don’t wanna hear it. If you get to fuss over me, I’m going to fuss over you just the same. Go lay down, I’ll join you soon.” 

“As you wish, amore,” He conceded, leaning over to kiss her softly, slowly, taking this moment to savor the fact that he could. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if he’d lost her today. He kissed her again, one hand cupping her cheek as the other found itself in her damp hair, and again and then once more before he could pull himself away. 

There was a lot he wanted to say, but it was all tangled in his mind, like vines that bore the most beautiful flowers anyone had ever seen. He settled for, “Don’t keep me waiting long,” as he stood, “I do sleep better with you in my arms.” 


End file.
